


Merthur one shots

by 1Black_Dragon



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur is a Prat, Insult hugging, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-16
Updated: 2013-10-31
Packaged: 2017-12-11 23:57:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/804739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1Black_Dragon/pseuds/1Black_Dragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or the one where the author takes suggestions for one-shots or short fics and does her best. :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please give suggestions or fic requests in the comments~~~ :)

“Let’s go _hunting_ , you said. We’ll be home before dark, you said. And now we’re lost in the middle of the forest, at night with _no idea_ where we are.”

Merlin glared reproachfully at the back of Arthur’s head, wishing now more than ever that he could turn him into something less.... _Pratty_. A frog, maybe. 

Arthur paused, and reined in his stallion so that he could turn and face his manservant. “Don’t be such a _girl_ , Merlin! Just because _you’re_ blind as a bat and afraid of the dark doesn’t mean that everyone else is too. I know _exactly_ where we are.” Arthur nudged his horse into a bumpy trot, a superior smirk plastered across his face.

Turning him into a toad was sounding more appealing with every minute. After a few moments of silently mocking Arthur behind his back, Merlin tapped his heels against the flanks of his brown mare and followed the King. “Then _please_ , your royal _Prattishness_ , could you tell me _where the hell we are_?”

Arthur paused again, brows furrowing. “In a _forest_ _Mer_ lin, it’s where lots of trees grow from the ground, and little furry animals like to live. _God_ , I knew you were _dense_ , but this is a whole new level of useless.”

Maybe not a frog then, perhaps a mushroom, or maybe a slug. With a groan, Merlin slumped over the neck of his horse, earning an irritated snort from his mount. “But we’ve been riding for _hours_ and we haven’t caught anything! I thought that the point of hunting was to actually _catch_ things!”

Arthur snorted. “ _Yes_ , Merlin. Maybe we would have caught something if someone hadn’t been complaining about his _sore rear end_ for the past three hours!”

Merlin childishly stuck his tongue out at Arthur, and petted his mare between the ears, still slumped over her neck. “Well my sore rear end wants to go _home_. Soon.”

Arthur snorted and spurred his horse into a slow canter. “We’ll go home as soon as we’ve caught something. Now keep up.”

Merlin glared at Arthur, but did as he was told. He wished that he had asked Gwaine to come along, or maybe Leon, but Gwaine was more fun, and he was more likely to take his side over Arthur's. Merlin snickered quietly to himself. He wondered what Arthur would do if he knew that his knights were probably more loyal to his manservant than to their King. He'd probably throw a massive kingly fit.

 

As if on cue, the royal clotpole himself spoke up. “What are you laughing about back there Merlin?”

 

Merlin smothered his grin with a hand, “Nothing, sire.”

 

Arthur nodded, “Thought so.”

The pair continued in silence for a while, the only sound being the hoofbeats of the horses on the damp leafy ground.

 

"Arthur, we should really start heading back. Gaius will be.... _er_... Worried if I don't come back soon, and I promised that I'd help him prepare a... Tonic for ... someone. Yeah. "

Arthur gave his manservant a _Shut-up-Merlin_ look and continued riding. Shooting a dirty look at the king, Merlin urged his horse onward, mentally kicking himself for agreeing to come along on the trip. The only reason he had come was because of Arthur and his _unfairly attractive_ pout.

Honestly. It wasn’t _fair_. All he had to do to wrap Merlin around his royal pinky finger was to smile at him. Not a smirk, or something forced, but one of his _real_ smiles, the smiles that, really, only Merlin ever got to see. Whenever he did that, Merlin couldn’t help but go along with whatever the bloody prat wanted. “Arthur. Seriously. _We’re lost_.”

The King paused, squinting in the dark as he tried to observe the scenery. “No Merlin, we’re not. We're right outside the Camelot forests, and if we turn around now, we’ll be home in no time.”

Merlin frowned. “I’ll light a torch,” Arthur scowled at him, unamused that his manservant didn’t trust his obviously superior judgement, “Just so that the horses don’t trip over a root.” He amended quickly, catching the look Arthur sent him.

With much grumbling and complaint, a torch was lit, and the pair were on their way until...

“Arthur,” the King stopped again, angrily reining in his horse, ready to yell at his manservant for not shutting up, “There’s a statue behind you.”

“Merlin. There aren’t any statues near Camelot. Statues are in pavilions and castles, _not_ in forests.” Merlin shook his head, and walked his horse next to Arthur’s and handed him the torch. “Then please, sire, tell me what the _hell_ that thing is behind you?”

“Fine then. I will.” Arthur grabbed the torch from Merlin, and swung to the front of the saddle again, and came face to face with.... An ivy covered pair of marble feet. The feet of the statue that guarded the Valley of the Kings. 

"I _told_ -" Merlin was cut off when Arthur waved the torch a tad bit too close to his face. "Merlin, if you say 'I told you so'...." Merlin gulped and pantomimed locking his lips. With a satisfied nod, Arthur turned to face the statue.

“This _could_ be bad...”

Merlin nearly fell off his horse. “We’re _lost_ in the _Valley of the Kings_ and all you have to say is ‘ _this could be bad_ ’?! Could be bad? It _is_ bad! What if we get ambushed, or eaten by some thing or-”

“Shut up Merlin. Don’t be such a _girl_. We’ve been lost before, and I’m the _king_ for god’s sake! There’s nothing out here that I can’t face.”

Merlin began to make a mental tally of all the things that were out here that Arthur definitely _could not_ face. Doracha, Griffins, ghosts, manticores.... The list went on for quite a while. Merlin stopped counting after a headache began to set in, and turned to Arthur. “So what now? We can’t head back to Camelot when it’s dark like this.”

Arthur looked at him like he was a complete moron. “Now, Merlin, we make a fire. I trust that your incompetence doesn’t extend to _simple basics_ of survival. He threw a dry branch at Merlin, and grinned as Merlin fumbled with the stick. “I’ll get the wood, and you’ll light the fire.” Merlin nodded, and grabbed a piece of flint from the saddlebags.

“Oh and _Mer_ lin,” Said manservant looked up, and found himself face to face with the King, “Try not to burn the forest down.” Arthur flicked Merlin’s forehead, and strode off into the dark forest, sword in hand, leaving a confused, flustered Merlin behind him.


	2. Spring Cleaning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Merlin tries to clean, and Arthur engages in battle with a grape.

SPRING CLEANING

********   
  
  


“I told you Merlin, spring cleaning,” Arthur drawled from where he was sprawled out on a chair, “Is a very important part of being a servant.”

 

From where he was scrubbing the floor, Merlin shot Arthur a venomous glare and barely resisted the urge to throw the rag at his face. “I cleaned your chamber a few days ago, and it’s not even spring!”

 

Arthur snickered and speared a stray piece of chicken from his plate. “I’m the prince, Merlin, if I say it’s spring cleaning, then  that’s what it is.”

 

Merlin scowled, and resumed scrubbing the floor with much more force that was necessary. Noticing this, Arthur threw a grape at him. “ _Oi_! I told you to _scrub_ the floors, not to tear them up.”

 

With obvious effort, Merlin restrained himself and returned to his task, moving the rag across the floor with exaggerated slowness. When Arthur pegged him with another grape, the look his manservant sent him would have turned a lesser man to dust. Ignoring him, Arthur picked up another grape and eyed it in contempt as Merlin glared at him. He waited until the other man had turned his back to him, and then lobbed it at the back of his head with a devilish grin.

 

With a muffled curse, Merlin spun back around, cheeks flushed in outrage. The prince contemplated throwing another grape at him, and decided not to, as Merlin seemed to be eying a discarded boot with the intent of clobbering Arthur with it.

 

After shooting a disgusted look at the prince, Merlin reluctantly tore his gaze away from the boot, and slowly picked up the rag, shooting suspicious glances behind him as a now-seemingly-peaceful Arthur picked at his lunch. “You know, Merlin, I’ve been thinking…”

 

 

“You know what I’ve told you about thinking, sire…”

 

Arthur glowered at him. “Shut up Merlin. Anyway, as I was saying, do you think we should have sent a few more knights out with Gaius?”

 

Merlin rolled his eyes. “I’m sure Gwaine will talk enough for a whole army, sire.”

 

The prince snorted in amusement, “I don’t doubt that.”

 

With a heavy sigh, Merlin dipped the rag into the cloudy water and wrung it out, “Besides, I would have gone with him if you hadn’t made me do the cleaning today. It’s been awhile since I last visited Ealdor.”

 

After slowly chewing a bite of food, Arthur nodded. “Sometime around last spring…. If I remember correctly, which for your information, I do.”

 

Merlin seemed not to hear him. “I wonder how my mum’s doing….. I hope she hasn’t caught whatever’s going around..”

 

Not liking that Merlin was ignoring him, Arthur pushed away his plate and walked over to his manservant, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure she’s fine Merlin.  Gaius will take good care of the villagers.”

 

He nodded numbly, and picked up the rag again. “You’re probably right,” Merlin sent Arthur an affectionate glance, “Besides, if I was gone, who would look after your sorry arse?”

 

 

Arthur gave Merlin an indignant glower. “I am perfectly capable of looking after myself, _thank you very much_.”

 

Merlin barked out a laugh and rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say, sire.”

 

After giving his manservant another glare, Arthur returned to his food, and jabbed his fork at a grape that seemed to be avoiding him. Frowning, the prince stabbed at the grape again and growled in irritation as it rolled away . He repeated the action, and then swiftly became engaged in a one-on-one war with the offending grape, muttering insults at the fruit under his breath as it continued to elude him.

 

 

A loud wheeze from behind him caused the prince to jerk in his seat and turn red-faced, towards where Merlin was doubled over laughing. “And pray tell _Mer_ lin, what’s so funny?”

 

Merlin waved vaguely with his hand and spluttered some more. “You-with the grape…. And it just keeps rolling…” Here he trailed off into another fit of giggles as Arthur glared at him.

 

“I will best this grape! Just wait and see!” With renewed vigour, Arthur returned to his plate and the grape that seemed to be taunting him from where it lay.

 

Abandoning the rag and bucket, Merlin turned to watch the someday-king battle the grape with a bemused smirk. His eyes flashed gold and the fruit completed another lap around the plate, much to the irritation of Arthur.

 

Finally, when the prince seemed to be on the verge of grabbing his sword and just hacking the plate and the grape along with it, Merlin let the magic fade and watched as Arthur gave a yelp of glee and triumphantly held up the speared fruit on the end of his (now slightly bent) fork.

 

“ _Ha_! I told you I’d get it Merlin!”

 

Merlin nodded, and attempted to keep a straight face as Arthur brandished the defeated grape like a trophy of war. As he fought back a smirk, Merlin was tempted to have the grape wiggle off the fork and onto the floor, but that would be too obvious for even Arthur to miss, and he had a floor to clean.

 

But before he could grab the discarded cloth, Arthur chucked the defeated grape at him. “ _Merliinnn_. You forgot to make the bed.”

 

Merlin frowned. He could have sworn he had straightened out the covers earlier. Whatever. He simply shrugged and moved towards Arthur’s ginormous too-comfy-for-its-own-good bed, and began to flatten out the rumpled sheets.

 

Occupied as he was with the bed, Merlin didn't notice Arthur sneaking up behind him, pillow in hand, until it was too late.

 

With a loud squawk, Merlin fell against the bed, feathers flying everywhere. He spluttered for a few seconds before giving out a loud sigh and smoothing back his now-ruffled hair.

 

" _Arthuuur_ ", Merlin stressed the name as he moved slowly to grab a weapon for retaliation, "I hope you know what you started."

 

Arthur grinned devilishly. "Pillow fighting the Prince of Camelot? I should have you thrown in the stocks!"

 

Merlin simply laughed, and then quickly ducked as the Prince lobbed a pillow at him. “Bring it on Prince Prat!”

 

 Arthur was about to shoot back a reply when there came a knock on the door. “Sire? The King requires your presence in the throne room.”

 

When Arthur turned to yell out a reply, Merlin took the opening and tossed a pillow. With a muffled whump, the pillow hit home, and feathers filled the air.

 

As Merlin peeked over the edge of the bed at the Prince who now sat slumped against the bedpost, Arthur spat out a feather, and looked rather done with life in general.

Merlin grinned widely and blew a feather towards his face. “See? I told you I’d win.”

 

Arthur glowered up at him and attempted to de-feather himself. “Merlin. Now you have to clean my chambers again.”

 

The manservant shrugged, still smiling widely. “It was worth seeing the look on your face when that pillow hit you.”

 

The Prince kept glowering, so Merlin turned back to get the broom, still laughing. Then, without warning, Merlin found himself on the bed, Arthur leaning over him. The servant outside knocked again, and Arthur turned to the door, “Tell Father I’m on my way,” he turned back to Merlin who was still pinned beneath him, cheeks pink and hair ruffled, and grinned.

 

He put his lips to Merlin’s ear and whispered, “ _I win_ ,” his warm breath ghosting across the shell of Merlin’s ear.

 

He pulled away and released his manservant and strode out the room, whistling a merry tune. As he left, Merlin slowly sat up on the bed, breathing heavily, eyes slightly unfocused,

 

Then, when he took in the mess of feathers around him, he cursed loudly and grabbed the broom.

 

**“** _Dammit Arthur **!”**_


End file.
